


nothing but trouble

by vuccijl



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: 2x06, F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 07:17:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20774678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vuccijl/pseuds/vuccijl
Summary: Set immediately after the scene between Beth and Rio at her office in 2x06 when he tells her she looks good behind that desk.





	nothing but trouble

He goes to grab the key off of her desk and shoves it into his pocket as he makes his way out of her office. She speaks up and stops him before he can get far. His face is covered in a mask of anger and disgust and even though she feels good - feels like she's won - she isn't interested in starting their 50/50 partnership off on the wrong foot.

"Want to get a drink?" She asks, stopping him in the doorway as he's making his escape. "We can celebrate."

"What do I got to celebrate?" He asks, his back to her. 

She smiles but he's not looking at her. She puts on a playful pout and teases him. "Aw, come on. Don't be like that."

She sees him shake his head - she tells herself it's in amusement but more likely than not it's frustration. He's annoyed that she's pulled one over on him but she knows that he's impressed with her ability to get what she wants. His attempt earlier to knock her off her pedestal by being sexually suggestive was worthy but unsuccessful. The rasp in his voice though, the look in his eyes, had made her clench her legs tightly together. She'd never been more grateful to be sitting behind a desk because she knows he would have noticed - knows he would have taken advantage.

And she probably would have let him.

She keeps her eyes glued to the back of his head and she's sure that he's going to deny her but when does he ever do what she expects?

"Remember that bar I fucked you in?" He asks suddenly, his voice cutting loud and rough through the stillness in her office. She knows what he's doing. Knows he's attempting to get back in front and she's okay with it, for now. "Meet me there in thirty."

And then he's gone before she can say no, even though they both know she wouldn't. She's not against standing up to him but she relishes his attention - craves it - and would never willingly give up the opportunity to spend time with him. Every extra minute she gets with him is another chance she has to learn from him - to learn _about _him - and she's not willing to let it slip by,

***

She enters the bar thirty one minutes later and he's already there. She can see him in the corner of the bar, back to her, drink already in hand. He's slouched over, elbows leaning on the bar top, and his phone is lit up in front of him. There's an empty seat beside him, a glass of bourbon waiting, and she makes her way through the crowd, in his direction.

Beth can tell the moment he senses her - notices his shoulders tense, notices him shift to sit up taller.

"This my drink?" She asks, sliding into the stool beside him. He side eyes her and gives her a small nod.

"Yeah, you owe me ten bucks." He says. She picks up on the humor in his voice and smiles because she's glad that he's not hanging onto his earlier rage.” 

She settles in and sips at her drink. The thought hits her fleetingly that this guy knows her better than her own husband. When would Dean ever have a drink ready for her? The correct drink, no less.

"You know me too well, I think." She muses lightly, glass to her lips and she savors the burn as it slides down her throat. 

He lets out a snort and drains his own glass. He motions towards the bartender to bring him another and doesn't respond until his glass is refilled. When it is, he turns his body towards her so that his knees are bumping against her thigh. 

"Ever wonder how the fuck we got here?" He asks and she knows he's not referring to how they literally got here, to this bar. Knows he means in the greater scheme of things. Knows he's referring to their relationship and their short history, professionally and otherwise, and how messed up it all really is. 

She wonders what number drink he's on because he's never willingly asked her such a loaded question.

"Everyday." She answers honestly. She turns towards him and watches as he spreads his legs apart, making room for her own to settle in between his. He squeezes his legs to trap her own as if she'd willingly choose to get away from him given the option.

It's frightening how they seem to fit so perfectly even though they shouldn't. There are not two people more different than they are but for some reason, it works. Both sets of eyes are on the spot where their bodies touch and neither is willing - or able - to look away. He's the first to surrender - he shakes his head and breaks his gaze, looking up at her. 

"You nothing but trouble." He says with no room for argument. She doesn't take his accusation personally. She _is _nothing but trouble where he's concerned although the same can be said about him. 

"Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and wonder how my life got to this point. I have to remind myself that it's actually real. That _you _actually exist."

He smirks and licks his lips. The look in his eyes is one she recognizes and she flushes because she knows something crude is coming. 

"That you're subtle way of tellin' me you thinkin' about me in bed at night?"

She rolls her eyes, because of course that's the part he comments on but she refuses to justify him with a response. Refuses to let him know just how often she does think about him while she's in bed. Or anywhere, for that matter.

They sit silently, deep in thought, before he speaks up again.

She senses him moving closer to her before she sees it and lifts her eyes so that she's looking directly at him. He reaches his hand forward and places it on her thigh, creeping up to the top with his fingertips and back down again. He repeats the movement, once than twice, before settling the palm of his hand mid-thigh. His fingertips dig deep, leaving a dent behind when he releases the pressure and she feels his touch in the back of her throat, in the pit of her stomach and most blatantly in the warmth between her legs.

"You ever regret leaving me those pearls?" He asks, his eyes on where his hand lays. His voice is gravelly and his question is so abrupt but so vulnerable all at once that she has to ask herself if she's heard him correctly. 

They've talked a lot but they've never actually _said _anything. They've certainly never had such an in depth, personal conversation before and it startles her how excited she is about the prospect. She ponders his question and bites her lip in contemplation. She wonders, briefly, how honest she should be but she knows right away that the only answer she'll give him is the truthful one. She's asked herself the same thing a million times anyway and there really is only one answer.

She repeats his words over again in her head before she meets his eyes to answer.

"No."

It's a simple word, two letters, but the weight of it hangs heavy between them.

"You ever regret shooting my husband?" She asks and she's joking - it's evident by the tone of her voice - but she's interested to see what he'll say. 

"Fuck no." He says easily and she laughs. The fact that she can laugh about such a thing doesn't escape her. Her life is nothing she'd ever expected it to be so it's not entirely unbelievable that she can compartmentalize certain things so well.

"You remember the last time we were here?" He asks but he can't be serious because _of course _she does. She replays the night over and over in her mind on a daily basis - replays the sounds and the touches and the feelings. Worries that she'll soon forget and it will all just become a distant memory.

"Vaguely." She answers with a shrug even though it's the furthest thing from the truth and if the look on his face is any indication, he knows it. 

"Most satisfyin' thing I felt in a long time was fuckin' you in that dirty ass bathroom while your dumbass husband was sittin' out here nursin' his drink." His admission surprises her but also doesn't. It's no secret that he can't stand Dean but she wonders if his desire to be with her is legitimate or a game that keeps him entertained.

She stops herself from asking, not sure she wants to know the answer.

"I wasn't sure you'd follow me." She says, looking at her glass rather than at him.

He nudges her and she looks up to see him smile, wide, and it guts her. "Liar.” 

She shakes her head shyly because he knows her so well and it's true - she'd known just based on his look alone that night that he'd follow her anywhere. 

"Tell me what the first thought in your head was when I turned around and lifted my dress up." She asks, scooting towards the edge of the stool. Both of his hands rest on the tops of her thighs now and she wonders when (not if) she'll get to kiss him. 

She's feeling bold and flirtatious and sexy due in part to the liquor she's consumed and the deal she had scored earlier but mostly it's just his presence so she brushes her fingertips over the top of his hand lightly. He doesn't seem to mind. Doesn't push her away - just follows the path of her finger with his eyes. 

"Fuck." He answers and she rolls her eyes.

"Rio."

"I'm serious. You think I was thinkin' actual _thoughts?" _He asks, almost sounding offended, and she can't help but chuckle at his outrage. She supposes she knows what he means. If _she'd _been thinking actual thoughts that night she'd never know what being touched by him felt like.

Her drink is gone and she sighs because she knows what she wants but she's not sure how to ask for it. As confident as she feels with Rio she's equally as hesitant. She wishes she could get a better read on him. Wishes she knew if what he wanted was the same thing that she did.

"I should get home." She says wistfully and she should but she doesn't really have to. Dean had texted on her way to the bar that the kids were down for the night and he was following right behind them.

"Back to that husband of yours." He says lightly. She sees a glint of something in his eyes but she can't tell if he's annoyed at the idea of her going home to Dean or amused.

"Back to those _kids _of mine." She corrects. She and Dean may still share a home but that's about the extent of their relationship these days. 

Maybe that's why she feels like she can give herself to Rio the way that she has.

He ignores her and motions towards the bartender. He asks for the check and pulls out his wallet to close out their tab.

She makes a move to grab a bill from her wallet but he gives her a look and the corner of her mouth tilts up in thanks.

"My treat next time." She says, before adding, "Partner."

He hits her with a look that says she's pushing him - lets her know he doesn't find her funny. She thinks that maybe it was okay to make the partner joke when he was still making more than her. Now that things are cut right down the middle they'll have to navigate new territory. She's okay with that, knows they've come far enough where they can sort out the logistics.

They both stand at the same time and he motions his arm in front of him so that she goes ahead. She moves towards the exit and she wonders if he's watching her from behind - thinks she can feel his eyes on her - and so she puts an extra sway into her hips as she walks. She can picture the smirk on his face and her cheeks redden at the thought.

She pushes the door open and breaths in deep. She hadn't realized how stuffy it'd been in the bar - doesn't realize a lot of things when Rio's around.

He falls into step next to her and they walk side by side in the direction of her car. She's not sure where he's parked but it seems like his interest lies solely in getting her safely to her van. It's late on a week night and the lot is near empty.

She pulls her keys out from her purse and the lights of her car flash as she hits the unlock button. She turns to face him when she reaches her door. 

"We should probably set aside some time to talk and sort out...details." She says, referring to their new business venture together, the pills and the cars, and all of the work that it will entail.

She watches him closely. He nods and rubs his hand over his mouth like he's thinking on something. Like he's deciding whether or not to say what's on his mind. She's never known him not to but tonight seems like a first for a few things.

His eyes bore into hers and she finds herself having to look away. Sometimes it's just _too _intense with him. 

"We'll figure it out." He finally says simply, eyes on her, and she leaves it at that for now because she's not really interested in talking about work and neither, it seems, is he.

She shuffles back and forth on her feet. She's nervous but she's not clear why. She's always slightly unsettled in his presence but this feels different. There's been a tension surrounding them since they'd spoken in her office but she's not sure what will diffuse it - words or something else. 

Turns out it's something else.

She tilts her head at him when he takes a step towards her and reaches out to grab the keys in her hand and the purse hanging over her shoulder. He shoves the keys inside and slides the strap off of her arm and let's it hit the ground next to her feet. She opens her mouth to call him out but he speaks up before she can.

"Can't figure out what it is about you." He murmurs, reaching out to tuck a piece of loose hair behind her ear in a way that only he can. He seems to be conflicted about whatever he's talking about and she's desperate to find out what thoughts swirl in his head.

"What do you mean?" She says softly and her voice cracks at the end, giving away her nerves. Her head is spinning but she's pretty sure she can't blame it on the booze. 

"Can't figure out why I wanna kiss you more than I wanna kill you." He says and if it were anyone else it'd be an outrageous thing to say but it's him and it's her and it's _them_ and -

She pushes up on her tip toes and presses a quick kiss to his lips. It's not enough to satisfy and it's not enough to calm down the overwhelming need she feels but it's enough to let him know that she's on the same page as him.

He lets out a growl deep in his throat and reaches forward to grip her hips with his hands. His fingertips dig deeply into her side, almost like he's mad at her, and she thinks that maybe he is a little bit.

She ignores him though because if he _is_ mad it's only because he wants what he shouldn't and she can understand that better than anyone.

She leans up again, this time kissing his jaw and down towards his neck. He allows her to continue her exploration and although they're out in the open there's nobody around to stop them. 

She pulls back, descending down from her toes to her heels. His look is inscrutable but his eyes are hardened and his breathing is slow. 

"It's more fun this way isn't it?" She asks, raising her brow in question, feeling brave.

"What way's that?" He asks gruffly, gaze glued to hers. He's still and steady but his grip hasn't loosened on her waist. 

More fun to kiss than to kill she thinks but doesn't voice. She takes a step closer into him so that their touching _everywhere, _so that they can feel _everything _and it's the only answer she's willing to give because she's done talking.

He's seemingly okay with it because it's a whirlwind after that. One of his hands is suddenly tangled in her hair, one wrapped around her waist and he's bending her backwards as if he's trying to snap her in half. She takes a step backwards to meet the angle at which her body is bent and she feels her back hit the van behind her. He follows and his lips are hot and uncompromising against her own. She can feel how hard he is underneath his clothes and it's almost too much.

She swallows back a moan as his tongue thrusts in between her teeth. She responds easily to his fervor as she pulls him closer, her fingers curling around his shirt. She yanks his body so that it molds to hers and he moves with her effortlessly.

Rio's mouth is everywhere like he can't decide where he wants to settle - like he's not willing to miss out on any part of her. He bites her bottom lip, sucks hard on the curve of her neck, swirls his tongue around the lobe of her ear. She's panting and all she can do is stand there, head against her van, and let him take over.

When he's satisfied that he's hit all available skin his mouth finds hers again, his tongue insistent. As if they have a mind of their own, Beth's hands travel down until they are undoing his belt. She feels him exhale sharply in away that is so extremely satisfying to Beth. She's not sure either of them had anticipated this but there's no turning back now.

He pulls back for a moment and stops her. "Hold up."

She's fuzzy, her brain is short circuiting, and she must look like a hot mess with tangled hair and swollen lips and glassy eyes. 

His mess, though.

He grabs her hand and pulls her around to the other side of the van. She's parked at the back of the lot on the end. On this side they are completely hidden from any passersby.

She considers suggesting they get _in _the van, it's the rational choice, but before she can he's shoving her up against the car and his mouth is back on hers. 

When have they ever done what was rational?

She returns to his belt and he momentarily releases her to undo the button and zipper on her jeans. They're both locked in on what they are doing, adamant and shaky and a little bit desperate. 

He pulls on her pants and pushes them down just enough to give them some slack and then he's shoving her shoulders backwards again. He slides his fingers down her arms and lifts both of her hands so that they are pinned above her. He's rough but she's more than okay with it, especially when he makes a move with his free hand to push her jeans and panties down further. She can only watch him, eyes wide as he does himself the same courtesy and then he's lifting her and she's wrapping her legs around him, pants around both their ankles, and he's slamming her into the car and it's so much better than she had been remembering.

He enters her not at all gently or delicately and she feels herself dissolve. She kisses him frantically because what else can she do? Somehow her mind processes that the car behind her is hard and uncomfortable against her back but as rough as he is, he's equally passionate, and any pain she feels melts into need. 

He's whispering dirty things into her ear about how she's so fucking tight and so fucking wet and so fucking _right _and she's trying to hear all of his words, trying to store them into a box in her head so that she can go back to them later but it's futile. 

It only takes moments before they both find their release. She finds herself biting his shoulder through his shirt to keep from screaming as she cums and he's collapsing against her, spent. Her feet drop to the ground but his arms stay wrapped around her waist and he buries his face in her neck. Both of their heartbeats are rampant against their chests and Beth can't tell who's breathing harder. 

He stays there, pressed up against her, lips wet against the curve of her neck. She clumsily reaches down to pull up her pants and then his and redoes his belt and her button. It's all very humorous really, they're both sweaty and messy and gross but she feels him chuckle against her, sending a shiver down her spine. 

When they're both semi put back together he pushes off of her and his dark eyes search hers - for what she's not sure. She channels the Beth that can be completely nonchalant about sex in bathrooms and against vans and smiles shyly at him.

"Not sure my back can handle it if this is going to become a regular occurrence." She jokes but she can already feel the bruises forming where the previous ones had just faded. 

He assesses her for a minute and then bends down to pick up her purse on the ground. He places the strap over her shoulder and pushes her hair back in the process. She assumes he's not going to respond to her but then he does. 

"You want this to be a regular occurrence?" He questions and her mouth falls open slightly because she's surprised by his question but also unsure about her answer. The easy answer is yes but nothing between them is easy, including this.

She remembers her conversation with Annie and Ruby as they sat in her dining room sorting pills and the words are out of her mouth before she can decide if she really wants to open this can of worms in a dark parking lot, late at night, after hes just been inside of her. 

"Maybe. But I don’t particularly want to be somebody's side piece."

He arches his eyebrow at her and she can tell he's trying hard not to smirk. "Whatchu talkin about?"

She shakes her head instead of answering. Her cheeks are flush and she can feel his cum damp in her underwear and she hates that it's these moments where she cowers to him. She wants to be the Beth from her office not the Beth that's scared and timid of the hardened criminal.

He lets out a sharp laugh and shoves his hands deep into his pockets before he pushes on. "You got a _husband."_

"Technically, yes." She says, stuttering out the words. 

"There ain’t nothing “technically” about it."

"It hasn’t stopped you before." She points out because hadn't he just admitted that the big draw to their first encounter was the fact that Dean was in the same building?

"And it ain’t stoppin' me now but I ain’t about to put some rules into place with you when you got a ring on your finger." 

Her hand flies up at his words and she waves it in front of him. She's not wearing a ring. Hasn't worn one in months but she knows that he hadn't meant it literally and so she drops her hand when she sees him roll his eyes at her gesture. 

"Nothin' but trouble." He says under his breath but loud enough for her to hear _again_. He's repeating his words from earlier but they're more serious now, less humorous, and her shoulders deflate in resignation. 

She's anxious to put an end to this conversation so she reaches into her bag to grab her keys once more and makes a move to walk around towards the driver's side. She hears him follow behind her but doesn't turn back to him until she's got her door open and she's ready to climb in. 

"We'll talk soon?" She asks because regardless of whatever _this _is they're still partners and they've still got to work together and at least that much Beth is sure they can figure out.

He nods and reaches up to grab hold of her door. She slides behind the wheel of her van and tosses her purse onto the empty seat next to her. She starts the engine and adjusts the volume of the radio and the angle of her mirrors even though she doesn't need to and then, when she's got nothing left to do, she looks back to him.

He's standing there, all cool and rugged and perfectly Rio, just watching her. His eyebrow pops at her when she meets his eyes but she bites back whatever snarky comment she feels rising in her throat. She reaches out to pull the door closed but he holds it in place. 

"Next time I'll get you in a bed so we don't mess up that pretty back of yours." He says smugly, breaking the silence. She hates that he can take her by surprise like this time after time. Wonders if there will ever be a time where she can brush off his comments purposefully said to get a rise out of her.

She's about to shoot back that there won't be a next time but why waste her breath?

"Gonna treat me to a dirty motel room?" She answers and her grin is dripping with sweetness and sarcasm all wrapped up in one. 

His bottom lip pushes out and he shakes his head. "Nah. Imagine how satisfied I'd feel havin' you in his bed?"

He doesn't have to specify who he's referring to and she wants to correct him - wants to tell him it hasn't been _his _bed in months - but she'll let him have the fantasy for now. If she's being honest - she thinks it might satisfy her a little bit too.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this random one shot that came out of nowhere. Anyone else as desperate season 3 and new content as I am? 🤷🏻♀️


End file.
